


Here For You

by hedgehog_in_221B



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, Depression, F/M, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 12:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3691932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgehog_in_221B/pseuds/hedgehog_in_221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finds the reader's journal and learns that they struggle with depression and self-harm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here For You

   Dean walked down the hall of the bunker toward your bedroom, his shoes tapping lightly on the floor. He came to your bedroom door and knocked thrice. There was no response from inside. “Y/N?” he called out, turning the knob and walking in. The room was empty as he walked in, though the light was on and there was an open book on your bed. He walked over to it curiously, wondering what it was. He picked it up and recognized the squiggly writing on the page as yours. Immediately, he looked away, knowing he'd stumbled upon your journal. Dean knew it would be overstepping his bounds if he were to read it, but his curiosity got the better of him and he looked down at the journal once more, leafing through it and reading your innermost thoughts. It was at that moment that you came back through the door, a bottle of water in one hand and a cookie in the other. You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw Dean standing in your room.

   “What are you doing in here?” you asked before your eyes landed on your journal in his hands. Your heart dropped. “Hey! That's mine!” you exclaimed, lunging toward him and snatching the book from his hands, holding it to your chest and crumbling your cookie in the process. You glared up at him. “What the hell, Dean! You can't just walk into people's rooms and read their journals! What the hell's the matter with you?!” Dean didn't say anything. He only looked at you with sympathetic eyes. “Well? Aren't you going to apologize?” you asked angrily.

   “Y/N...” he said quietly, walking toward you.

   “What?” you asked, more irritated than upset. Before you knew it, he was hugging you to his chest. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked, stroking your hair. You shook your head, burying your face in his chest. “Do you mind if I say something, then?” You shook your head again. He was quiet for a moment before he took in a deep breath. “I know how you feel. I've been there myself. Hell, I'm still there. I know what it feels like to look in the mirror and hate what you see, to think you're worthless and beyond saving. I know it's tough and that sometimes you just can't deal with it. Sometimes you want to hurt yourself. I know it all too well. I've got scars, too, and some a little more recent than I'd like to admit. But let me tell you something. It gets better. I know it doesn't seem like it'll ever end, but it will. And you're strong, Y/N. You're so strong. You'll get past this, I know you will. Sam helped me work through my stuff. He was there for me. And I'll be here for you if you need it, okay? I'll always be here for you, whatever happens. You can come to me about anything. And if you feel like self-harming again, you tell me. I'll help you work through it. I don't want you to have to go through this alone. You don't have to anymore.” You listened to his words, trying to regulate your breathing as you felt your eyes prickle with tears. You said nothing, desperately trying to contain yourself. You didn't want to cry in front of him, but your body wouldn't listen. Tears brimmed at your eyes and spilled out onto your cheeks and his shirt. You shook as you clung to him, sobbing softly. He rubbed your back and hugged you tightly, doing what he could to soothe you. “Just let it out. It's alright. I'm here. I've got you,” he said gently. Eventually, your tears ceased and you noticed the front of Dean's shirt was soaked from all your crying. You pulled from him and sniffled a bit, looking at the mess you made.

   “I'm sorry,” you said, your voice a little hoarse.

   “Don't worry about it,” Dean replied. “You okay now?” he asked. You nodded. “Good.” He smiled.

   “Dean?”

   “Yeah?”

   “Thank you,” you said, going in for another hug. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly.

   “Anytime,” he said.


End file.
